Note: I am something of a "chess geek," attaining an official "expert" U.S.C.F. rating when I played tournament chess, so this DVD may have more interest for me than it would for non-competitive chess players. I once met Garry Kasparov during the 1992 National High School Championship in Lexington, Kentucky, where he spoke and greeted all participants.

I had previously seen him compete live for the first two games of the 1990 World Championship against Karpov in New York City. The second game was a spectacular win for Kasparov that inspired many in the audience (including me) to stand and shout "GARRY! GARRY!" So when I brought a book of the match opened to a page featuring that game, Kasparov's eyes and mouth instantly smiled and exclaimed, "Good game!!" Nothing makes a chess champion's day more than a satisfying win over a difficult opponent, yet nothing can bring on a depressive state more than a devastating loss.

Filmmaker Vikram Jayanti begins Game Over: Kasparov and the Machine with visual references to a historic icon “The Turk,” allegedly the first chess playing machine that played very strong chess. Consisting of cabinet with a turban-wearing mannequin seated behind, the “machine” was actually a magician's hoax, relying on a hidden chess master within its confines to make its moves. It most famously angered Napoleon Bonaparte by soundly checkmating him on the 24th move--not that the general was a good player (he amateurishly brought his queen out to the f3 square on the second move), but he wasn't used to losing. Neither is Garry Kasparov.

Actually, no chess World Champion can ever gracefully accept defeat—being the best in the game naturally brings out a degree of arrogance (a belief in your mastery over lesser players). But Garry Kasparov has been a radically different sort of champion, especially when compared to the reclusive and insane Bobby Fischer or the restrained Anatoly Karpov. Energetic, engaging, friendly, and charismatic—Kasparov has been the foremost chess promoter in history (as well as arguably its greatest player).

Tirelessly circling the globe, Kasparov has frequently appeared on television shows (even humoring David Letterman by carrying on a “correspondence” over several nights), played numerous simultaneous exhibitions, competed in prestigious tournaments, founded chess schools and programs, and started a comprehensive chess website to publicize the royal game. But the biggest promotion Kasparov undertook was his historic "Man vs. Machine" matches against IBM's Deep Blue computer in 1996 and 1997 with Kasparov easily winning the first 4-2 but shockingly losing the re-match 3 ½ - 2 ½. The documentary primarily focuses on the last “Man vs. Machine” match but covers additional background to flesh out the human protagonist. (Note: Deep Blue was unavailable for most of the film due to half of his hardware being locked up in mothballs while the other remains on exhibit at the Smithsonian)

Kasparov is truly a genius, but he's also very human, as illustrated graphically in Jayanti's film. The pain of losing that 1997 re-match with IBM's Deep Blue computer clearly remains in 2003 when Kasparov revisits the NYC match site. Despite the hurt, Kasparov acts as gracious host, continuing to believe that IBM had rigged the match in their favor primarily to promote the company and boost stock sales. As he reflects on the match: “It was a great idea. I liked it, and I played straight into their hands.”

The documentary does reveal evidence that indicates that Kasparov's claims may not be due to the usual paranoia that goes into such contests or due to standard claims by match losers. Vague insinuations are made by juxtaposing images of a dimly lit Soviet chess club with the secretive corporate world, but IBM's most questionable move is the fact that they retired Deep Blue immediately following the match and completely shut down its chess computer research department. Why invest the money they did and discontinue after defeating the World Champion after one six game match? A rematch was warranted, especially since the match score stood at 1 each and since Kasparov had played badly the second time--playing more to beat a machine than to play his usual complicated attacking style.

The film doesn't go into details about the decisive final game, but it was a disaster and completely out of character for Kasparov. The world champion uncharacteristically chose a very quiet and solid Caro-Kann defense for his black pieces but completely blundered the opening on the seventh move by allowing Deep Blue to sacrifice his knight for a pawn to force Kasparov's king to remain open to attack in the middle. It's a well-known trap that even average players avoid, making it unfathomable that the world's best chess player would allow this to happen. Chess players around the globe collectively stared in disbelief at Kasparov's 7. ... h6 move that meant instant doom--this wasn't even a game. Deep Blue wouldn't even be required to get past its opening Caro-Kann book knowledge to finish off the world champion.

What the film illustrates most graphically are significant details about game 2, in which the computer confounds Kasparov during a complicated endgame by refusing the expected “machine move” pawn grab and making a quieter “human Grandmaster choice” that completely unnerves him. Visual juxtapositions with the legendary "Turk" machine are made while Kasparov verbally wonders if IBM has somehow incorporated a flesh and blood Grandmaster to fill in the computer gaps to create an unbeatable combination of “brute force” and Grandmaster intuition. IBM never did deliver the promised printouts of its logs, which makes the corporation suspect.

Archive footage confirms that Kasparov's initial confidence is visibly destroyed, and the IBM team is taken aback by his charges—led by Grandmaster Joel Benjamin, who was employed by IBM to teach and help program more sophisticated chess knowledge into Deep Blue. Benjamin and the other geeks hired to program Deep Blue to defeat the world champion reminisce fondly about the match, but steadfastly insist that they weren't engaged in monkey business. Kasparov did face unknown challenges since the computer people had access to all his tournament games while Kasparov had no background on his machine opponent--and even if he did, programmers could shift the computer's thinking process overnight. That's precisely what distressed Kasparov in game 2. After playing like a predictable machine patzer in the first game, Deep Blue suddenly began making human Grandmaster moves. The computer's personality change discombobulated Kasparov so badly that he missed a draw by perpetual check and resigned instead. He never recovered.

Whether IBM rigged the contest or not is disputable without a full set of facts, but the documentary does visually re-emphasize what many chess players suspected after seeing only the game logs of the contests. Those games offered proof that Kasparov didn't play his natural style and played his poorest public game in the finale. Joel Benjamin had told his co-workers that they had “broken” Kasparov after his frustrating draw in the fifth game.

That much is pretty clear in the film, and perhaps indicates the biggest advantage that a cold, calculating computer has in chess. When Deep Blue's program crashed, a time-out was called, and technicians were dispatched to get the computer booted up and running again. For humans, chess is an emotional experience. But when the human machine breaks down emotionally, match officials don't pull the plug and have technicians re-boot the player. Although computer geeks and IBM may feel satisfaction for achieving a long sought after goal of defeating the world champion, most chess aficionados still regard Kasparov as the greatest chess player of all time.

Game Over contains just enough information to interest most geeks, but hardly any film could ever satisfy a true chess devotee (considering the hours spent playing and analyzing the latest tournament game). It doesn't contain enough information to state definitively exactly what went on during the 1997 "Man vs. Machine" match, but it raises questions that continue to be debated. The film won't appeal to most mainstream audiences, but no serious examination of the chess world could accomplish that. On the other hand, anyone who was intrigued by the Kasparov vs. Deep Blue news stories just may find the film interesting on a human level since it doesn't dwell on the strategical and analytical aspects of the game.